The first time
by xbuffyxspikex
Summary: Clarke finds Bellamy shirtless with baby wells. or The one where Clarke snaps a picture of Bellamy and the baby sleeping on the couch together and gets caught. {Part 1 of the skin to skin contact series}


This is the first fic for a series I'm going to write called "Skin to skin contact." I hope everyone likes it and wants to read the second fic. Comments/reviews make my day but they aren't required. I saw a prompt like thing on Tumblr the other day (I'm not sure who it was from or exactly where.) about something like this so I decided to write about it. The whole series with be based on the fact that skin to skin contact is good for babies. I'm going to try to write everything is fluffy as I possibly can.

Also, all mistakes in grammar and punctuation are my own.

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The first time Clarke finds Bellamy and Wells curled up together on the couch together she just can't resist taking a picture to save the memory. Didn't someone say that a picture is worth a thousand words? Well, this picture is worth all the words in the world and then some.

"Honey I'm home!" Clarke whisper yells when she finally gets her key in the door. (No, it absolutely did not take Clarke five times to actually get the lock to turn. It was more like four. Okay?) She pushes the heavy door open and lets out a small squeak like sound when one of the books in her arms fall to the ground and hit her toes. This is one of those moments she really regrets wearing flips flops. Groaning loudly, she reaches down, holding on to the remainder of her books for dear life, and grabs the hard book off the wood floor.

"Bellamy?" Clarke whispers, just a little louder than when she pushed the door open. "Where are you?"

Clarke squints her eyes in the dimly lit room and pushes the front door closed with her butt. (When your arms are full you gotta do what you gotta do right?) She throws her keys into a vase by the front door. (A vase O has made her opinion about its "disgustingly designed looks" a countless number of times, but she was the one that actually picked it. A small little fact Clarke reminds her about over and over again. "It looked way better in the store," she always says to defend herself.)

Clarke slips her aching feet out of her light blue flips flops and drops all her books on the little table also found by the door. (She'll pick them up and put them where they actually go later. Okay? Okay.) She turns around slowly, pivoting on her aching feet and opens her mouth, getting ready to call out for Bellamy a little louder. It's only thirty-five minutes past six so there's no way either he or Wells went to sleep so early. Unless, Bellamy got Wells to magically fall asleep earlier than his usual twelve past midnight self-appointed bed time. (They've both tried to get him to sleep earlier but he just has too much energy. Bellamy blames it on Clarke.)

She gets ready to open her mouth but a slight movement in the dimly light room causes her to snap her mouth shut and tip toe over to the couch. What she sees when her eyes finally adjust, makes her smile so brightly she almost feels as though her lips will fall off from being forced to smile so widely.

Bellamy is outstretched on the couch, feet covered in socks and his jeans pulled up one of his legs. That's not what wants to make her smile though. He is obviously missing his shirt (Clarke may or may not have stared at his abdomen before she actually let her eyes wander elsewhere.) and laying on his bare chest his an also shirtless Wells. Both of them have cute little half smiles on their faces, Bellamy's arms are wrapped around Well's tiny midriff, and Wells has his hands pressed to Bellamy's chest, palms downward. Clarke stares for a moment longer when she finally realizes that maybe she should take a picture so that the memory is never lost.

As quickly and as quietly as she can, Clarke moves over into the kitchen and squints in the darkened room. It takes her a moment to find what she's looking for but when she does she almost breaks out into a happy dance. (She probably would have if not for the time sensitive situation she has on her hands right now. Both her boys could wake up at practically any moment.) She makes a dash back to the living room and back over to the couch that they are still (thankfully) sleeping on. Turning the camera over in her hands she presses the button at the top of the camera and blinks a couple of times when the bright screen beams into her eyes. Usually Clarke would actually turn the flash off but unfortunately she probably wouldn't get a very good picture if she did that, so Clarke leaves the flash on and crosses her fingers (mentally of course) that they don't wake up until after the picture is taken.

As soon as the flash and the click of the camera goes off, Bellamy opens his eyes and blinks sleepily. Clarke quickly lowers the camera and hides it behind her back. (Bellamy would probably make her delete the picture if he had any say in the matter.

"What was that flashy light thing?" Bellamy grumbles. Then, "That shit was bright. Woke me up out of a good ass dream."

Clarke giggles quietly and bites her bottom lip. Shrugging her shoulders she says, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Bellamy stares at her for a moment longer and squints his forehead like he's trying to figure out a really hard math problem. Finally he says, "I don't know whether to believe you or not. You have that look on your face you always get when you're up to something."

Clarke stifles a laugh and tries to keep a straight face on. (It proves to be pretty damn right impossible when Bellamy looks down and carefully runs his fingers in Wells' baby soft hair. It's pretty cute.)

"I just walked through the door." Clarke says to defend herself. Bellamy still looks at her like he doesn't quite believe her. The two stare at each other for a moment; Bellamy has a dopey ass grin on his face and Clarke still tries to keep a straight face and not let even the tiniest hint of a smile appear on her face.

"What are you hiding behind your back then?" Bellamy finally says after a long moment of silence. Clarke blinks her eyes and tries to give the most innocent smile she can manage and once again shrugs her shoulders.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Bellamy. I'm serious. I just walked through the front door. (Okay, maybe that is stretching the truth just a bit but come on, she really hasn't even been home for that long. Maybe ten minutes, if that, but Bellamy doesn't have to know that.)

Bellamy opens his mouth to say something but stops when a little whiney noise interrupts him. He looks away from Clarke's face and watches as Wells stretches on his chest and wrinkles his nose like a cute little bunny. Clarke tries to discreetly put the camera in her hands on the coffee table.

(Bellamy doesn't even look up from Wells but from the corner of his eyes he can definitely see the small silver object Clarke tries to slyly place on the table. He doesn't let her know that he sees her though. He just keeps staring at Wells as he stretches his little body out and blinks away the sleep from his eyes. (He'll look at it later, when Clarke is to entranced with the little baby to even bother worrying about every little thing Bellamy is doing.)

Bellamy wraps his arms around Wells a little tighter and holds him to his chest so that he can sit up and get moving around. (Someone has to cook dinner tonight or they'll both starve to death.) Clarke slides onto the couch and leans into Bellamy.

"Come to momma, baby." Clarke whispers quietly, almost as if she's afraid if she talks louder than a whisper she'll break the moment. (Bellamy doesn't say anything because he feels the same way.) Wells reaches his arms out to Clarke and with a smile on his face, Bellamy hands him to her.

"How was work?" Bellamy asks her, leaning his head down to press feather like kisses to her face and down her neck. Clarke leans further into Bellamy's body and Bellamy wraps his arm around her back and pulls her in to lay on his shoulder.

"It was pretty hectic. You know how I'm teaching the kids pottery, right?" Clarke doesn't even give Bellamy a chance to answer, she just keeps talking as if she didn't just ask him a question.

(Bellamy just lets her because he loves the sound of her voice and the look on her face she gets when she remembers her day and tells him all about it.)

"Well, some of the kids decided that it would be so much fun if they started a clay fight, like a food fight but with clay." Clarke continues, her voice rising an octave when she gets to the end of her sentence. "There was clay everywhere; on the walls and the floor, the desks and even in some of the kids hair. It was an absolute disaster. I had to send the instigators to the office and write up four referrals. Three of them were suspended for a week but of course the pack leader got off easy." Clarke snorts and shakes her head slowly. "I don't understand how he never gets in trouble. That's not even the first time he started something like that. Just last week he actually started a real food fight in the cafeteria."

Bellamy hides a smile when Clarke's face turns red (He thinks it's cute when she gets all worked up, okay?) and she starts sighing loudly, obviously frustrated with the lack of discipline the school has when it comes to some of the school's students.

"Let me guess," Bellamy replies once Clarke has started to settle down a little, "it was that kid Murphy and his band of hooligans."

Clarke nods her head and purses her lips. "Of course it was Murphy. Who else causes that much trouble and doesn't even get in trouble for it. I think he has someone on the school board."

"Yeah," Bellamy nods his head in agreement, "He probably does. I don't see how else he would get away with all the stuff he does."

Clarke also nods her head in agreement. "Yeah."

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They both stay on the couch for at least an hour longer talking about Clarke's day and also his. (Dinner ended up being Chinese take-out, something Clarke was pretty happy about.) And after Clarke was settled in bed with a book in her hands and Wells knocked out in his crib, Bellamy snuck off to the living room to pick up the camera and see exactly what Clarke was up to.

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Thanks for reading :) For updates on the second fic for the series or just because you want to, find me on tumblr at x-buffyxspike-x


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